


"It's Okay. I'm Used To It."

by Emme2589



Series: Just Call And I'll Be There [9]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blood, Guilt, Gun Violence, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Injury Recovery, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Self-Doubt, Shame, Sign Language, Special BROvert Ops Ending | SBO (Henry Stickmin), Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27852082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emme2589/pseuds/Emme2589
Summary: Charles makes a terrible mistake. One that almost ends up getting Henry killed.The guilt is crippling. What can he do?
Relationships: Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin
Series: Just Call And I'll Be There [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011435
Comments: 8
Kudos: 117





	"It's Okay. I'm Used To It."

Charles had never felt like such an idiot before in his life.

It all started when he woke up late that morning, groaning tiredly when he realized his phone hadn't been charging all night, and so it was now at 4%. He figured he'd plug it in to let it charge for thirty minutes or so until he had to be on base, and just like that, he slipped into his usual routine, leaving his phone behind without realizing it wasn't in his pocket like it usually was.

He went through flight simulations, coached new recruits on mission etiquette, made sure equipment was in order, and rewrote upkeep instructions before he realized that he hadn't seen Henry all day. It worried him a little bit. Henry wasn't usually one to ghost him, and when he asked around, he realized that nobody else had seen him either. That's what made him start to worry in earnest. Henry was very sociable for a selective mute, so if _nobody_ had seen him _all day,_ that was enough to set off _huge_ red flags.

That was when Charles reached into his pocket, figuring he could text Henry to figure out what was up.

Except...his phone wasn't in his pocket.

He felt an icy chill wash over him as he remembered what happened, and he doubled back towards the dorms, sprinting until his legs grew sore and his lungs burned. His eyes watered as he hurried to his bedroom and took the phone off the charger. He had one new message from Henry, dated to 1 pm, nearly five hours ago.

He opened it up, and his heart stopped.

_helpp_

Charles got tunnel vision as the fear gripped him like a mideval torture device, and he resisted the urge to vomit as he typed with fumbling fingers to call the general while simultaneously syncing his headset back to his helicopter.

He was already in the air by the time the general answered, _"Charlie? What's going on?"_

"Sir, Henry needs help! I need to know where he is! Call everyone on base! This is a rescue mission!"

***

Charles finally tracked Henry's location to an alleyway in downtown Chicago. He landed his helicopter on the roof of one of the shorter buildings and hurried down the fire escape, skipping every other step as he followed the signal. Liam and Quentin were nearby in case he needed backup, their enemy-seeking snipers at the ready from their choppers. He just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

When Charles appeared in the alleyway, the first thing he registered was the smell of blood. A gun lay at his feet, caked with dirt in a pool of dark liquid, only barely illuminated by the nearby streetlights. He feared the worst as he crept forward, his gut screaming at him to bolt immediately, but he couldn't leave now.

"H-Henry?" Charles called into the darkness, "A-are you here? Answer me, please."

His eyes fell on a figure curled up into a ball, shivering in the sewer water as they pressed both hands into a wound in their side.

Sure enough, it was-!

"Henry!" Charles fell to his side, prying his hands away and shedding his jacket to tie tightly around the wound, "Liam, I found Henry! I think he's been shot! We need to fly him to the nearest hospital, _now!"_

Charles carried Henry bridal-style out of the alley, where Liam flew his helicopter close enough to the street that Charles was able to leap to it, throwing Henry forward to catch the door with both hands and slam it shut before Liam flew them to the emergency room, where Henry was quickly admitted and cleaned up. Charles was in agony as he was forced to wait outside the operating room, his stomach in knots as his hands became slick with sweat, his nails digging into his palms until they left painful marks in the skin.

Finally, after what could have easily been several hours of Charles hanging on the edge of a panic attack while Quentin and Liam tried in vain to comfort him, a nurse emerged from the OR.

"He's awake."

Charles stood, "Take me to him! Please!"

She led him down the hall towards inpatient facilities, and once she gestured into one of the rooms, she stepped aside for him.

"Henry!" Charles ran to his bedside, "Henry?"

Henry wouldn't look at him. His eyes were glazed over, a shadow hovering over them as if he were mentally somewhere else. His breathing was shallow. His grip on the bed sheets was weak.

"Henry." Charles sat in a plastic chair beside the bed as he took Henry's hand, "I'm so sorry. My phone was dead, and I accidentally left it at home while it was charging and I just fell into a routine and forgot I didn't have it. I'm so sorry."

Damn. He was crying now. He brought Henry's hand up to his forehead as the tears began to fall. Henry still refused to look at him.

 _"Henry. I'm sorry."_ he sobbed, placing a wet kiss to Henry's knuckles, _"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_

He had messed up. He had messed up _big time._ It was such a simple mistake, one that anyone could have easily made, but god, why did his phone fail to charge _today!?_ Why had he left it behind _today!?_ Why did he have to be so scatterbrained _today!?_

Henry wiggled his hand out of Charles' grip, and he quickly snapped his head up, thinking Henry was about to sign.

Evidently, he was right. Henry faltered for a minute as his papery skin shone under the hospital lights, shaking from shock and the remnants of blood loss, but eventually, he made the "ok" sign, then the sign for "worry", then the sign for, "miss".

"I know. I'm sorry." Charles wiped a hand across Henry's cold and sweaty forehead, "I'm sorry, Henry. I promised I'd be there for you if you called, and I wasn't! I'm sorry!"

Henry cut a hand across his throat, so Charles stopped.

Henry merged the signs for, "brave" and, "helicopter" using the letter C, his way of signing Charles' name. Then he signed, "Don't say sorry. It was a mistake."

Don't apologize.

It wasn't your fault.

It was just a _stupid_ mistake.

"But you got hurt." Charles lamented, "And I wasn't there to help you. You were alone for six hours! That's unacceptable! You could have died! And it would have been my fault! _Please_ forgive me, Henry!"

He promised. He _promised_ he would always be there if Henry called, and he had failed. He had let him down. Henry could have died, and it would have been his fault.

The guilt that pierced his heart over and over again hurt like he was being stabbed.

"Uh, sir?"

Charles lifted his head, grabbing a tissue when snot dripped from his nose. The nurse from before was back.

"I'm afraid visiting hours are over."

"What? So soon?" Charles gripped the edge of the mattress, "I can't leave now."

Henry cleared his throat to speak, "No, it's fine, Charles. You can go."

Charles blew his nose before throwing the tissue away, "But you'll be alone. You were already alone for far too long. I can't do that to you."

"No, really. I'll be fine." Henry assured, "I'm used to it."

_I'm used to it._

**I ' m u s e d t o i t .**

Charles jumped on top of him, wrapping both arms around his shoulders, "You're not gonna take me alive!"

Henry yelped in surprise.

"Sir, I really can't let you stay. I could lose my job."

"No way!" Charles hooked his leg around one of Henry's, twisting the blanket around them, "You'll have to call security, and they'll be forced to drag me out kicking and screaming! I'll even fight them if I have to! I'm not leaving Henry! Not this time!"

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them on the bed and on something out in the hallway.

Finally, she said, "What's your relation to the patient?"

"I'm his boyfriend."

"Call yourself his husband. Immediate family is allowed to stay overnight. Don't breathe a word of this, though. I'd like to stay employed."

"Don't worry, ma'am. My lips are sealed."

She left, leaving the door a crack open as she turned the lights off. It was late at night by now, so the hospital was winding down for the graveyard shift as patients went to sleep.

Charles rolled off of Henry to lay by his side, "Sorry. Did I hurt you?"

Henry was just staring at him in shock, his cheeks slightly pink, when before, they'd been dull and grey from his illness. After a second of processing what he'd been asked, he shook his head.

"Good. Listen, Henry. I'm just...so sorry. I'd say it won't happen again, but..."

But he couldn't guarantee that, could he? He promised he'd be there before, and he hadn't. Who's to say this wouldn't happen again?

Charles buried his face in Henry's shoulder, inhaling the scent of antiseptic that clung to his hospital gown, _"God, I really haven't changed at all. I'm a failure."_

Henry hugged him, "Charles, why are you staying? You know you're breaking the law. You could be discharged for that."

"I know, but I'm not leaving you now." Charles mumbled into the stiff fabric of Henry's sleeve, "I don't care that I'm breaking the law. I failed to help you when you needed me, and so you were alone for six hours with a bullet wound and no cell phone. You couldn't stand. You couldn't scream. You couldn't even call for help. I screwed up. I'm... _fuck,_ Henry, I fucked up. I fucked up so fucking badly, and it could've gotten you _fucking killed!"_

He was crying again. God, this hurt so much. How could he have let this happen? How could he have let Henry get so hurt? Not just physically, but psychologically too.

"Charles, it's fine." Henry rolled onto his side to face him, "I'm used to handling things myself. It's not a big deal."

"No! You can't just forgive me like that!"

"What? Why not? Before, you said-!"

"I know what I said, but that was because I _expected_ you to be upset! You aren't doing this right! You should be angry! Yell at me! Scold me for being so careless, scream and cry, cuss me out, just _anything_ other than _blind forgiveness!"_

Henry blinked at him, "You _want_ me to be angry?"

"Yes!" Charles huffed, "Well, no, I don't _want_ you to be angry, but that's the only logical reaction to what I did! I made a stupid mistake that could have ended in your death, and you're just going to _accept_ it!?"

Henry bit his lip, "Well...I'm not angry, though. I've come to expect stuff like this. It was just an honest mistake, and I've been through worse, so I don't see why I have to be upset."

"Oh god, that's..." Charles breathlessly sobbed into Henry's cold neck, _"Fuck, Henry. That's so horrible. Jesus Christ, why?"_

His heart hurt so much, he thought it would stop at any moment. He had given Henry a glimpse of a world where he was a traitor. A dip back into his old criminal life. A taste of the betrayal he had seen almost every day as friends backstabbed friends and bad circumstances tore families in half.

"You weren't the one who attacked me." Henry hugged him, "It was partially my fault, honestly. I followed a false lead and didn't bring backup. I'm lucky my gunshot wound wasn't more serious."

"That still doesn't excuse what I've done." Charles trembled violently, hugging Henry tighter to himself, "I'm never going to forgive myself. _Six hours,_ Henry. _Six hours_ with no help."

"Hey, if it helps, I think I was unconscious for most of it."

"That _doesn't_ help, actually. That makes it _so much worse..."_

Henry tilted Charles' head up, "Charles...listen to me. If I want to forgive you, then I will. You should forgive yourself, too."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Charles shut his eyes against the pillow, "I can't forgive myself for essentially abandoning you. It was the one thing I promised I would never do. I love you, Henry. Don't you understand?"

"You should go home."

"Not until we can go together."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because, Hen." Charles sighed heavily, "Just...think about it. What if _you_ had forgotten your phone and _I_ ended up alone for six hours after almost getting killed with a bullet? Would _you_ just forgive yourself? Would _you_ think that it's 'not a big deal'?"

Henry's eyes watered until the tears spilled into the pillow.

 _"Oh my god..."_ Henry sniffed, _"I could kiss you right now!"_

Charles chuckled, though it sounded slightly hollow, "Please do."

With the green light he needed, Henry leaned forward until their lips met, and Charles held him tighter, being careful of the bandaged bullet wound in his abdomen.

When Charles broke away, Henry took his cheek in one hand, and he leaned into it, his eyes closed.

Henry whispered, "What did you mean when you said you haven't changed?"

Charles pulled the thin blanket overtop of both of them, "What do you think? I've done this before. I hurt people. It's just...never been this severe I guess."

Henry looked at him like he had three heads, "Charles, what are you talking about? Do you just hold onto the guilt of making mistakes your whole life?"

He didn't get an answer.

"Don't blame yourself for this. Please." Henry kissed his forehead, "Don't hold onto this guilt. You came after me as soon as you got my message, didn't you? It's likely thanks to you that I'm even still alive right now."

Charles squeezed his eyes shut.

"Charles. Look at me."

He did.

"I forgive you." Henry stroked his head, grazing over the scuffed headphones his partner still wore, "I forgive you, okay? You made a mistake. You couldn't have known what was going to happen to me. Don't beat yourself up over it. I beg of you. I love you, Charles."

_He forgives me._

_He loves me._

Charles kissed Henry's cheek, "Thank you. I don't want you to be used to violence and betrayal, Hen. That's what really killed me. I want you to be used to _this._ I want you to see things as they are. What that attacker did to you is unacceptable. I want to make it up to you. I want you to feel safe."

Henry pulled Charles in for another short kiss, _"I always feel safe when I'm with you."_

It was late, and the two of them had a long day, so before long, after many soft kisses and lots of hugs, they were both fast asleep.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr! marshemillow.tumblr.com


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